Cover Girl's Continuing Adventure
by Slayne22
Summary: Another Beach Head/Cover Girl pairing. Total humor! Try it....
1. Default Chapter

Cover Girl's Continuing Adventure By Slayne22 ______2237  
  
Disclaimer- I don't own or profit from the characters of G.I. Joe in any way. This is JUST for fun. If they would just give me Beach Head though, I might actually get off my butt and do something besides writing fanfiction all day.  
  
This is another Beach Head/Cover Girl pairing. I really like this team-up for some reason. I guess I see Cover Girl as the one female Joe who would let his growly insults roll off her back and give as good as she gets. I think they could actually learn to respect one another and become...friends, awwww! This is also a little more Cartoon Beach Head than comic book.  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Chapter 1  
  
Beach Head swore and picked up the radio as the M-35 'Deuce' came to a stop on the shoulder of the highway and died. The big truck was over 15 years old and had taken a considerable effort on his part to keep it running the whole day. He had hoped it would make it back to base, but that obviously wasn't happening. While the Joes got the cutting edge of technical equipment for their battles with Cobra, they also had to put up with the mainstays of military vehicles as well. He radioed the base and talked to Flint, who promised to send someone out right away. Then the Ranger turned and looked at the rookie sitting next to him in the Deuce.  
  
"What's your name again?"  
  
"Rollins, sir." the young Corporal replied. He was a smaller Marine in the first few weeks of training, and was not finding this particular Sergeant very easy-going.  
  
"Well Rollins, you now get to live one of the more common experiences of the Joes. Vehicle failure." The Sergeant sounded annoyed and Rollins glanced at him a little nervously. It had been a long morning of training exercises with the other newbies at a nearby National Guard Camp. The Sergeant had run them ragged and dressed them down with the ferocity of a pit-bull. Rollins had never been particularly good at holding his tongue, and had ended up talking back to the big Sergeant, earning himself some extra 'attention'. Then he had been the last soldier in from the 5 mile run. The other rookies had snickered as Scarlett had ordered him to ride with the Sergeant on the way home. They had been the last to leave and the masked Ranger had spent most of the ride lecturing him on how he could improve himself.  
  
"Out!" Beach Head ordered and they both hopped out of the truck and onto the gravel shoulder. They checked over the Deuce looking for specific trouble, but found none. They were a good two hours out from base, with the others well over an hour ahead of them. Flint would probably just send Clutch out and try to get the truck fixed right here. Beach Head finally walked to the shaded side of the truck and eased himself down, leaning against the big wheel. Rollins wondered how he could stand wearing that knit mask in the afternoon heat. Then he wondered why the man wore the mask at all.  
  
The time stretched on as the Sergeant began in again on the lecture. They both rose and walked to the road as a Hummer pulled up behind them, Clutch at the wheel. The mechanic hopped out, followed by Cross Country and glared at Beach Head.  
  
"What the hell did you do to my Deuce?"  
  
"I was getting ready to shoot it and put it out of it's misery before you drove up." Beach Head replied. Clutch shook his head and walked to the truck. Cross Country glanced at the Sergeant and then at the Corporal.  
  
"Havin' fun Rookie? I bet you're just havin' yourself a great ole time with Beach Head here."  
  
"Yeah, big fun..." Rollins answered, and then shrugged with a grin as Beach Head glanced at him.  
  
"It's better than being locked inside a tank with you, Cross Country."  
  
They heard Clutch swearing from the front end of the truck, and they walked around to stand behind him.  
  
"What is it? How long is it gonna take?" Beach Head demanded.  
  
"I'm seeing crap all over the place in here...it's gonna take awhile, if I can fix it here at all."  
  
"Great." Beach Head replied.  
  
"Cover Girl's right behind us...she'll take you guys back to base."  
  
"Again...great." Beach Head said dryly. As if on cue, there was the deep growl of an engine and the men all looked up as a sleek, black car crept up and onto the shoulder in front of them. The paint was slightly faded and the rear end curved down to a sqared-off nose. The car idled with a restrained thunder.  
  
"Cover Girl's new car." Clutch remarked wistfully and irritated as he jerked a thumb towards it. Privately, he was immensely impressed with what she had done with it so far...but telling her that was NOT an option. Beach Head and Rollins walked towards the car and Cover Girl looked up at them from the driver's seat, pushing her sunglasses up onto the top of her head as she grinned at them.  
  
"What the hell is this?" Beach Head asked with long-suffering acidity.  
  
"This, boys, is a 1970 Plymouth Hemi Cuda. It's a 426 Hemi with a Holley 4 barrel, shaker hood, a 4 speed with pistol-grip shifter and a go- wing on the back! It's so damn evil it makes you look like a retarded boy scout, Beach Head."  
  
"What?" Beach Head scowled and Rollins laughed. He cut if off quickly when the Sergeant glared daggars at him.  
  
"Well, what the hell did you bring it out here for?"  
  
"I just got it up and running. I wanna see what it can do. Either get in or stay out here and wait for Clutch and Cross Country to get the Deuce fixed."  
  
Beach Head looked annoyed and hesitated. Rollins grinned and began walking around the side of the Mopar.  
  
"Shotgun!" he called.  
  
"Like hell!" the Sergeant growled and scrambled around the car to the passenger side. "Get in the back!"  
  
"I ahh...I hate the back."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Sometimes I get sick in the back." Rollins replied with a little more venom than he wanted.  
  
"Well get over it, Corporal!" Beach Head emphasized the rookie's rank. "This ain't a discussion."  
  
Cover Girl tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and rolled her eyes. By virtue of rank, Beach Head would win the pissing match. Kind of fitting, since he was also the biggest prick on the Joe team. She grinned at that joke and then hit the horn, startling both of the men.  
  
"Let's go!"  
  
"You wanna stop that, Cover Girl!" came Beach Head's annoyed drawl as two male heads leaned down to glare at her through the passenger side window. He opened the door and pulled the seat forward then looked at Rollins pointedly. Rollins hesitated and then sighed and climbed into the backseat. Beach Head climbed into the front and shut the door.  
  
"Rookie...you puke in here, and I'll drag you behind by the short hairs for the duration of the trip...got it?"  
  
He looked at Cover Girl, surprised, as Beach Head let out a sharp laugh.  
  
"Yes ma'am!"  
  
"Good!"  
  
She gunned the motor once, hit the clutch, slid the rumbling car into gear, and the whole hulk of formed steel leapt forward throwing both men back into their seats. The engine roared with a deep, throaty whine as the shaker hood and quarter panels shook slightly with velocity. Both men glanced over at the grinning Cover Girl as the car raced forward and then scrambled for their seatbelts.  
  
"Jesus!" Rollins muttered as he pulled the old lap belt around his waist and yanked it tight. Beach Head was doing the same, but with much less panic. They watched the cars on the highway as they flew by.  
  
"What's the matter, boys? Not used to a powerful ride?"  
  
"Don't get us killed, Corporal." Beach Head muttered.  
  
"You wanna live forever?" Cover Girl laughed.  
  
"I'd like to make it through this week, at least." the Sergeant replied calmly.  
  
"And without pain!" Rollins added.  
  
"Ah, don't worry, boy. "Beach Head said, turning to glance at the rookie. "She hits anything at this speed, you won't feel a thing!"  
  
Cover Girl laughed and Rollins groaned quietly, his heart creeping up into his throat as the road flew at them even faster. She roared down an off-ramp, drawing the glare and bark of the Ranger.  
  
"Where the hell are you going?"  
  
"Taking back roads home. The highway has too much traffic and too many cops. I can't afford another ticket...the motor pool hasn't made me a millionaire."  
  
"But you can afford a car like this?"  
  
"Hey...gotta have priorities!" she quipped, grinning at him. He just shook his head.  
  
"What's that smell?" Rollins suddenly asked, making a face.  
  
Cover Girl opened her mouth and Beach Head's masked face snapped around to glare at her.  
  
"Don't even think it!" he growled. He was damn tired of all the jokes about his lack of deodorant. It was getting old and irritating. She smiled and then looked at the rookie in the rear view mirror.  
  
"It's the interior. I'm not finished with it yet. It's a little musty smelling. I've only really got the mechanics finished, unless I decide to add another Holley to it. The interior and the body will take a little longer."  
  
"Oh." Rollins winced as they flew over a small hill and his stomach dropped. The musty smell didn't help. He bit his lip and held on for another half hour before he finally leaned forward.  
  
"I gotta go to the bathroom."  
  
"Hold it!" Beach Head ordered.  
  
"No...I gotta go too." Cover Girl protested.  
  
"There's nothing out here."  
  
"We'll find somewhere."  
  
They all looked out the windows, as if a port-a-john would suddenly appear in the middle of the road.  
  
"Just stop and go in one of these cornfields."  
  
Cover Girl glanced at the Sergeant. "I'm NOT going in a cornfield!"  
  
"What's the problem...you must have gone in worse places on missions."  
  
"That doesn't mean I have to ignore basic ettiquette and drop trow anywhere."  
  
Beach Head shrugged. "Whatever." As they came up over another hill, the unmistakeable sign of a bar appeared.  
  
"There!"  
  
Cover Girl slowed the Cuda and they looked at the old tavern. It looked like an old house, and had a gravel parking lot filled with old pick- ups and a few bikes. Cover Girl pulled the car into the lot and parked well away from the other vehicles.  
  
"Maybe we can get some food here too. I had to miss lunch because of you guys." She waited for Beach Head to object, but he just shrugged and they climbed out of the car.  
  
"Open the trunk...we aren't taking guns inside."  
  
Cover Girl popped the trunk and Beach Head set his pistol inside. She closed it again and they began walking towards the building.  
  
"Take off your mask, Beach...we don't want them to think we're robbing the place."  
  
He grumbled about it, but pulled the knit mask off and shoved it into his belt. They worked their way between the old pick-ups, hearing strains of a banjo from the tavern and the bark of a hound as it saw them from it's place on the stoop.  
  
"Does anyone else get the feeling we've just entered Deliverance country?"  
  
"I thought that was only down South...like in Alabama or something." Rollins remarked. Beach Head stiffened and turned to glare at him.  
  
"Keep it up, boy! You ain't a Joe yet." he warned before heading through the door of the bar. Rollins hesitated as Cover Girl laughed and looked at him.  
  
"Oh...that was a good one, Rookie! Did you see the look on his face?"  
  
"What did I do?"  
  
"He's from Alabama...didn't you notice the Southern twang?"  
  
"Shit!"  
  
Cover Girl clapped him on the back. "Nah...good one!"  
  
They followed the Ranger into the bar. There were a handful of people inside. A couple of old farmers and a few younger men who looked like bikers playing pool. They all looked up and then stopped all action as they stared at the newcomers. The Joes walked slowly forward, glancing uneasily at the hard faces. The glares turned into stares as they gradually all centered on Cover Girl.  
  
"Great." she muttered.  
  
"And you thought I'd cause a scene." Beach Head muttered back. They walked to the bar and Cover Girl looked at the bartender, a balding man with a huge gut hanging over the waistband of his jeans.  
  
"You got a bathroom?" she asked politely. He nodded towards the back of the bar and she and Rollins glanced back. There was one door with a hand-written sign saying 'john'. Rollins looked at her.  
  
"Go ahead." she sighed as he looked at her gratefully and darted for the back. "Order something." she said to Beach Head, hoping it would improve the attitude towards them.  
  
"We'll take two beers and a coke."  
  
"You don't want a beer?" Cover Girl asked him as the bartender glared at them and then turned to get their order.  
  
"The coke's for you...unless you want me to drive home."  
  
"Over my dead body."  
  
"That's what I thought." They took the drinks to a table at the side and sat to wait for Rollins.  
  
"I didn't think there was a place like this out here." Cover Girl remarked, looking around at the dusty interior.  
  
"There's a place like this everywhere."  
  
"We should have brought Cross Country with us...he speaks 'redneck' doesn't he?"  
  
"Just drink up and let's get out of here."  
  
Rollins slid into one of the chairs and looked at them. "These people are creepy. They're all glaring at us like they want to deck one of us."  
  
"They won't try it." Beach Head said, glancing around.  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"Do you know how many people there have been who wanted to punch me?"  
  
"Does modern math even count that high?" Cover Girl asked blankly.  
  
"Oh, that was fucking hilarious, Cover Girl." Beach replied dryly.  
  
"I didn't think it was that bad."  
  
"Didn't you have to go the bathroom?"  
  
"Alright, alright..." she downed another mouthful of the coke and then got up and walked to the back of the bar. The guys playing pool stopped to watch her. She walked past them and through the door to the 'john'.  
  
"Oh...nice!" she muttered as she looked down at the wet floor and scummy fixtures. There was no lock on the door, and it didn't want to latch shut. She had to hold it shut with her toe as she went.  
  
"Ugh...I'm taking an hour-long shower when I get home."  
  
When she stepped out, the biker guys were waiting for her. They all grinned at her and one of them slammed a pool que down in front of her, blocking her path as she tried to walk past.  
  
"Where ya going?"  
  
Shit! She thought as she looked into the grimy faces. She didn't want to have to kick some ass and start a whole thing here.  
  
  
  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
"Shit!" Beach Head swore as they watched the bikers stop Cover Girl. He glanced at Rolllins. "Be ready! If they go for her, you got her back!"  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
Beach Head rose and walked towards the altercation. She was facing them now, arms at her sides, smiling sweetly. But he could see her resting on the balls of her feet. Ready for the fight.  
  
"Just passing through, guys." She said politely as her eyes slid to the side, seeing Beach Head creep up to stand just to her right. The biker guys also watched him.  
  
"Are you in the ARM-ee, dude?" one of them asked as the others laughed.  
  
"You know it, boy, and you don't want to mess with us."  
  
The man's face darkened. "Oh no? You think we can't take some G.I. Joe wannabees?"  
  
"Look..we're going now. Let's just all relax here." Cover Girl tried, thinking about how Hawk would have their asses if they got arrested.  
  
"You ain't going anywhere." one of them proclaimed. Oh, of course, Cover Girl thought wryly. Can I go anywhere with one of the guys and NOT get into a fight?  
  
"Stand aside, kid...and I'll let you walk home on your own today." Beach Head said quietly.  
  
The man scowled and raised his pool que. "Don't call me kid!"  
  
He made a clumsy effort to thwack Beach Head with the stick. Beach Head easily avoided it, but another one came in from the side and connected with the back of his knee. He whirled around and kicked the man in the stomach, sending him flying against the bar, and then leapt forward and grabbed him by the neck. The man choked and Cover Girl darted forward, trying to keep an eye on the surrounding men. Rollins had risen from their table and circled slowly, keeping himself out of the center of it, so he could watch the perimeter.  
  
"Come on Beach...let the guy go. Hawk will have our heads if we hurt them." Cover Girl urged, seriously, her eyes sliding from side to side to watch the guy's friends. She looked at the Ranger and watched his jaw relax as he started to pull away from the guy, when the guy suddenly whipped a nasty looking bowie knife from a sheath strapped to his back. He pressed the point firmly into Beach Head's stomach, through the unzipped vest he wore. Beach Head froze and his fingers began to dig deeper into the guy's windpipe.  
  
"Ok, ok..." Cover Girl said nervously, reaching out to grab at Beach Head's arm. "Look guys. Let's just back away here and we'll all go home, ok?"  
  
"Let go or I'll gut you." the guy managed to gasp out.  
  
"Cut me and I'll rip your throat out."  
  
"Beach Head, for Christ's sake...let go." Cover Girl pulled on his arm and glared at him. This was just a roomful of street fighters, they should be able to get out of her without much harm to anyone. Then there was a movement behind the bar and the loud clack of a pump-action shotgun being primed. The bartender leveled the gun at Beach's head. His eyes slid sideways to glance at the barrel resting inches away.  
  
Instantly, Cover Girl whipped a .45 from her jacket and pointed it at the biker guy's head. "You shoot...he dies."  
  
The rest of the guys in the bar suddenly backed rapidly away from the stand-off, a few running out of the bar to their bikes. The farmers sat calmly on their bar stools, sipping their beers. They looked bored. Rollins walked to the door, to keep an eye on any incoming patrons. The biker guy with Beach Head's hands wrapped around his throat looked at Cover Girl in surprise.  
  
"A minute ago you were on my side!"  
  
"That was before your friend pulled a shotgun on us. Beach may be a prick, but he's ours and if anyone's gonna kill him...it's gonna be one of us...not you." Beach Head's eyes slid sideways to look at her.  
  
"What the...?"  
  
Cover Girl looked at the bartender. "You really want to follow this through?"  
  
"I could kill him before you get me."  
  
"Yes...but I guarantee I'll get two shots off to your one. By the time you pump that shotgun again, this guy will be gone and there'll be a nice little hole in your skull as well."  
  
The guy looked unsure and Cover Girl knew they couldn't keep this thing going much longer. She cocked the hammer on the pistol, doing it for effect, since you could fire it without cocking it manually. The biker guy flinched.  
  
"Ok men...this is how it's going to go. You..." she nodded towards the bartender. "You're gonna remove the shell from the chamber on that gun and then you're gonna lay it on the top of the bar...and you..." she looked at the guy with the knife. "You're gonna drop the knife...then Beach is gonna let you go and we're gonna back out of this place...nice and slow. No one is getting hurt." Everyone was frozen for a moment and Cover Girl aimed the pistol a little closer to the biker's face.  
  
"Right now, boys!"  
  
The bartender pumped the shell from the chamber and set the shotgun on the bar. Cover Girl looked at the biker. He glanced at the pistol in his face and she heard the clatter as he dropped the knife.  
  
"Beach..."  
  
The Ranger's jaw clenched and then he released the guy, backing slightly away. They both walked back, as the others watched them silently. Rollins stepped outside and held the door as they backed through it. When the door closed again, they looked at each other.  
  
"Get in the fucking car!"  
  
They leapt from the stoop and raced to the Cuda. Rollins dove into the back as the other two quickly slid in the front. Cover Girl fired up the hemi and the tires spit gravel as they took off. Behind them, the bar door opened and Rollins watched the biker guy and two others race for their bikes.  
  
"I think they're comin' after us!"  
  
"Those crappy old bikes aren't gonna keep up with this bad boy!" Cover Girl said delightedly as she put the pedal down and the Cuda roared forward. Rollins watched the bikes fly up onto the road behind them in pursuit, and then begin to fall behind as the Cuda took off. They fell further and further behind and then he couldn't see them anymore. He sighed in relief, his stomach writhing again.  
  
"Shouldn't Waylon Jennings be singing about 'good ole boys' right about now or something." he asked. Cover Girl laughed.  
  
"If Cross Country were here, he'd do it for us." she exclaimed, then looked at Beach Head. "What? No thank you?"  
  
He glanced at her. "For what?"  
  
She glared at him. "For what? For getting us out of that 'situation'."  
  
He shrugged. "Yeah...you were ok."  
  
"Ok?" she cried incredulously. "Ok? Christ! Don't lavish so much praise on me, Sergeant! I wouldn't want to get a swelled head!"  
  
"I could have handled it myself! Besides...I thought I said 'no guns' inside."  
  
"I saved your ass!"  
  
"Bullshit!"  
  
Cover Girl shook her head. "You're unreal...I should make you say 'Cover Girl saved my ass' a hundred times for me in thanks."  
  
"Please..." Beach Head said sarcastically, pulling his mask back on and settling it over his face.  
  
"Oh that's it!" Cover Girl suddenly slammed on the brakes, throwing Rollins into the back of her seat and making Beach Head brace his arms against the dashboard to keep himself from ending up on the floor.  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" he yelled.  
  
She threw the car into neutral and pulled the parking brake, then turned and looked at him. "Say it."  
  
"What?" he glared at her as if she had lost her mind.  
  
"SAY...IT...!" she enunciated each word.  
  
"Say what?"  
  
"Say 'Cover Girl saved my ass'."  
  
"What? No!"  
  
Rollins twisted in the backseat to look out of the rear window. He expected to see the bikes appear in the distance any second. "Uhhhh...guys?"  
  
They weren't listening. They were glaring at each other.  
  
"Would you rather say 'a woman saved my ass'?" Cover Girl threw at him, starting to grin now.  
  
"I'm not saying shit!"  
  
"Uh...guys! Could we please get going?" Rollins pleaded, thinking he saw a flash in the road behind.  
  
"We're not going anywhere till Beach Head says it." Cover Girl stated firmly, crossing her arms. Beach Head glowered at her and she rolled her eyes.  
  
"OK...I can definitely see the bikes now!" Rollins groaned, his stomach turning flips.  
  
"Say it, Beach Head!"  
  
"This is incredibly immature, Cover Girl!"  
  
"So is refusing to admit when I've SAVED YOUR ASS!"  
  
"GUYS! They're right behind us!" Rollins called, watching the bikes roaring up over the last shallow hill. Cover Girl and Beach Head both turned and looked out the rear window. They looked at each other.  
  
"Nnnh...Cover Girl...mmmph..." Beach Head mumbled. Cover Girl looked at him and then tilted her head.  
  
"What was that? I don't have supersonic hearing."  
  
Beach glared at the dashboard in front of him. "I said...Cover Girl saved my ass!"  
  
She grinned and glanced upwards. "Oh, the beauty of it all..."  
  
"Let's go!"  
  
She engaged the clutch, released the brake and shifted into gear, tearing away from the slowing bikers and roaring down the road. The bikers disappeared for good behind them. When they were well away, Beach Head turned in his seat and fixed the rookie with an intense stare.  
  
"Rollins...if I find out you told anyone about this...EVER...I swear on all that is holy, PT will take on a totally new meaning for you! As in Physical Trauma! Got it?"  
  
"Oh god..."  
  
"Got it?" the Sergeant repeated.  
  
"Sir, yes sir!" Rollins leaned forward, trying to calm his stomach.  
  
"Ok... I think we should all agree that nothing happened this afternoon...if Hawk or Duke asks." Cover Girl suggested.  
  
"Agreed." Beach Head said immediately and they exchanged understanding glances.  
  
They were quiet the last few miles. The Cuda sped through the late afternoon towards the base and they stared out the windows in silent thought. As they sped onto the outskirts of the base, Beach Head glanced at Cover Girl.  
  
"You better slow down...Law sits this road with radar all the time."  
  
Cover Girl smiled innocently. "Yeah... I know. He and I have...a little ritual!"  
  
Beach Head raised one eyebrow suspiciously. They sped on down the long, straight road and soon, sure enough, they saw Law's MP car at the side of the road. Cover Girl layed off the throttle and let the car coast forward. As they approached the MP closely, she suddenly gunned it, causing the car to jump forward and give a sudden loud bellow of it's power. Beach turned his head and saw the MP glancing up in surprise as the coffee in the cup he was holding, splashed up over the side and headed down towards his lap.  
  
Beach settled back in his seat with a smirk. "Heh!"  
  
"Can you believe that guy sent me his laundry bill last week?"  
  
Beach Head glanced at her. "If that coffee landed where I think it did, I'm surprised he doesn't sue you for personal injury and disability." They suddenly grinned at each other, and Rollins moaned in misery.  
  
  
  
The Cuda rumbled into the motor pool of the Pitt and stopped along one wall. Both Cover Girl and Beach Head sat still for a moment looking up at the figure of General Hawk standing in front of them...waiting.  
  
"Shit." Cover Girl swore softly, glancing at the Ranger. He glanced back and met her eyes.  
  
"Let me out of here!" Rollins groaned and they glanced back at him.  
  
"Forget the obstacle courses, I ought to just send the newbies on a ride with you, Cover Girl...that'll weed out the pansies." Beach Head smirked.  
  
They climbed slowly out of the car. Rollins bolted from the backseat and quickly off to the side, where he promptly threw-up and sank to his knees. Hawk watched him with some concern and then faced his two soldiers.  
  
"I received a call from some local authorities not far from here...they stated some 'soldiers' were at a country bar and pulled a gun on some of the locals. You...wouldn't know anything about that...would you?"  
  
Cover Girl shrugged, looking innocent. "No sir...have no idea."  
  
"Uh-huh... Beach Head?"  
  
The Staff Sergeant looked at him and swallowed before shrugging his shoulders as well. "No sir...not a thing."  
  
Hawk studied both of them. "That's the way it's going to be then?"  
  
When neither of them answered, he nodded. "Ok...well, it's a damn good thing those soldiers, whoever they were, chose that bar instead of one of the many that have surveillance cameras inside. Nothing can be proven...yet."  
  
The two soldiers smiled slightly at each other and were preparing to walk away when Hawk stopped them. "Ah...Cover Girl!"  
  
She stopped and looked back at the General.  
  
"You can expect a speeding ticket from Law tomorrow morning. And...another laundry bill."  
  
"Yes sir." She answered with a wince. But as she turned away...she smiled.  
  
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End file.
